Venice's Triumph
by Saltandsweat
Summary: The last of the Venice trilogy. Explicit-ish. Venice is bored of one-on-one relationships. We all know what that means ... (a dab of slash)


**VENICE'S TRIUMPH**

She was waiting for Severus in her rooms, idly drifting like her dark Slytherin green lace curtains. She was bored, there was no question. The affairs with Severus and Lucius had become tiresome, tedious, bland. She needed to add something to the mixture.

Another person? Perhaps … although that would anger her Slytherins far too much if she picked another such as Sirius Black, or Lupin. Gryffindors and the Slytherin siren did not mingle well. And there were no other Slytherin men except Filch, and … she shuddered violently at the thought.

Suddenly she had an idea, and quickly, silently, she settled at her desk and scrawled a note on a piece of parchment. Then she handed the note to her owl, a thin black creature, and watched it sail down to the lower part of the school to the guest rooms before changing to a simple men's shirt, black and soft against her fairness. Severus had left it in her rooms, and it smelled of him, of aggressive lust and self-denial. He would desire her instantly in it.

Then Venice leaned back on her hands on the cotton sheets, knees up, feet placed apart, legs open. Not that anything was on display, though; she made sure of that. The shirt was down over one shoulder so it was bare and brave and beautiful. That was all.

She waited only a few minutes before she heard Severus' key in the lock, and she fixed her eyes on the door, smiling in anticipation.

Severus opened the door, and saw her immediately, but did not rush to her the way she had expected. Instead he leaned back on the door, closing it firmly, and looked her over, dragging his black eyes over the black shirt, and over her body. A brief smile creased his lips.

Then slowly he walked to an armchair and undressed, draping his clothes over its back, never taking his gaze from Venice. She was becoming frustrated, certainly. Severus was taking liberties, the liberty of not touching her, which strengthened his position. But she was not one to give in fast, and so she kept her position, maintaining the attacking stance, commanding him to come to her.

Finally, naked, he gave in, and holding himself above her, brought her head up with his hand to kiss her. 'Good evening.'

'Severus,' she said teasingly, reproachfully, 'it's not good manners to keep a lady waiting.' 

'Nor it is good manners to wear other people's clothes,' he replied.

Then she pulled him down onto her, excited at his weight, and his lustful patience. 'Do you like it?'

He considered wryly, although she knew he was probably playing. Then he nodded. 'It does add a certain … something.' His hand slid up underneath the material, up her side, under her arm. She squirmed as he tickled her, letting out a gasp of pleasure and physical amusement.

Then he pulled up the shirt, up to her waist, and pushed inside her. His abruptness surprised her, as she had been expecting a long period of play. He was probably trying to be unpredictable. But for her plan, it worked well.

Still, she needed to be on top of him, and so she coaxed him over onto his back with her legs wrapped around his hips, and she lay on him, moving gently over him and kissing his neck and lips.

She glanced at the time, and as she felt pleasure take over, smiled in delight. 'God, Severus …' Moving harder, she pushed herself up high with her hands, arched her back, head back, hips low over her lover's. For Severus, it was the most erotic position he had ever witnessed.

As she heard another key in the door, she began to cry out as her familiar orgasm hit her, perfectly timed, and it mixed with Severus' cry of surprise and frustration. 'Lucius!'

Venice waited a few seconds until she had regained some breath. 'Lucius …'

The blonde man stood, imposing in the doorway. 'You sent for me,' he said coldly.

She feigned a little innocence. 'Did I?' Then, climbing off Severus and pulling the shirt back down, she sat up on the bed. She could feel Severus' suspicion. 'So I did … but I'm afraid, Lucius, that Severus got here first.'

'What do you mean, I got here first?' Severus growled quickly. 'You sent for him as well?'

'She sent for me about fifteen minutes ago, Severus,' Lucius told him coolly, but the anger and jealousy was unmistakeable.

She looked between them mildly.

'There appears to have been a mistake,' she lied. 'I must have … double-booked, as it were.'

'So we're both your … your regulars? You're the whore of Hogwarts?' Severus asked incredulously. 'We make appointments with you so you can … entertain our lusts?'

'Severus,' she warned, 'that is _not_ how I think of it, and it's an extremely crude phrase. I'm insulted. You wanted me. I'm simply giving you what you want.'

But both men were looking at her with something close to fury, and the waves of heat from them were making her shiver. For the first time since she had met either of them, she felt threatened. They were no longer competing _for _her: they were competing _against_ her, and she was on her own. They were powerful wizards, and they were both on Voldemort's force – she had noticed the Mark on their arms. They had the strength of mind to torture her, to rape her, maybe even to kill her, spent and greedy.

It was then she realised that she only had one type of power available to her. And much as she dreaded their reaction, she had to try it. 

'I have a proposition for you, my masters.' _Mocking, amusing flattery_, she thought. 'You're good friends, and from the looks of things -' she placed a hand over Severus' left forearm, felt him tense – 'you've done this sort of thing, together, with … less willing victims. How would you like to try it with one who _is_ willing?'

Both men drew breaths at the same time, met each other's eyes in hope and lust. The lust was not only for Venice herself, though. It was for each other, and for the very idea of the three of them together.

Anger seemed forgotten. Again she had won.

Venice, standing near the bed, beckoned Lucius to her, and he came, kissed her hungrily and tried to lift her shirt over her head. But she stopped him with a hand and shook her head. 'Not yet, Lucius. And anyway, Severus likes it on. It's his shirt.'

Lucius lifted a fold of the material to his face and closed his eyes, breathing it its fragrance while he caressed Venice's neck. 'You still smell the same, Severus …' His voice was rich with husky lust and the delight at rediscovering old desires.

Severus watched the two of them, almost thoughtful in his voyeurism. Then he drew Venice back slightly onto the bed, settled her between his legs and pushed Lucius' hand away from her neck with his mouth as he kissed around the collar of the shirt. Lucius appeared to consider, and then knelt before her and dipped his head in between her legs under the shirt.

Severus felt her shiver, felt his own erection harden at the transfer of pleasure between bodies. As Lucius continued, Venice's shudders grew more intense, and Severus remained passive, enjoying his lazy arousal. He wrapped his arms around her slim body, one across her stomach and the other about her neck, and rested his chin on a bare shoulder. It was warm, and he smelled himself in her sweat.

He could sense Venice becoming increasingly excited, but at the crucial tensing of her muscles, as her body readied for climax, Lucius stood and kissed her hard, halting the flow of pleasure and pushing her head back against Severus' shoulder. His face was inches from Severus' own, and his expression was unreadable as their eyes met. He broke the kiss with Venice, leaned forwards, and they kissed violently, once, over Venice's shoulder. Severus tasted Venice and the old dark savour of his partner. Then Lucius worked his way across Venice's face, and down to her neck, sucking on Severus' hand as he did so.

She let her head fall back onto Severus' body, laughing slightly at her own humiliation and abandonment. It would have been too easy for her to touch herself and finish Lucius' work, Severus knew. She enjoyed their little games; she would not spoil them.

They each had their different styles of play. Lucius was more confident than Severus, liking to pretend that he had the lead even when he knew he did not, and never admitting he had been slighted.

Severus, on the other hand, took more interest in the observation of Venice. If one fed her conversation, gave her a freer rein, she truly moved in a circle of passion. She knew exactly how to drive him mad, she knew where the beauty lay in her body, and she knew how to use it to best effect. She was truly, in her delicate form, a marvellous creature.

Of course she made mistakes; no one could avoid it, when playing such a subtle game. But the errors were interesting to Severus, whereas Lucius either took triumph or was irritated by them. It was possible to distinguish the areas where Venice was the least experienced or confident: although she often let instinct determine her actions, she was not always right.

And that, Severus realised, was what it came down to, in a way. She had an instinct of sex, and she had recognised it. Everyone seemed to want her. Even Voldemort knew about her, wanted to meet her. Perhaps it was just that she was very intelligent.

He felt a jolt against his chest, and looking down, realised that Lucius had flicked his tongue at the girl's tender flesh, had provoked a gasp from her. Severus buried a hand in Lucius' hair, rubbing against his ear, the affection of old companionship and familiarity and pulling his head between Venice's legs. Venice herself, Severus was intrigued to notice, was watching keenly, trying to determine exactly the relationship between the two.

Finally Severus decided that he could speculate later. He had been abrupt earlier because of his lack of self-control, and he might have been forced to pay for it with a shorter session. The arrival of Lucius had made things _much_ more interesting; he may as well take advantage of it now.

As Lucius nipped and kissed Venice's thighs, Severus bent his head around, down, and let his tongue explore the base of her throat, growling against her skin. This elicited a wonderfully concise whimper from her lips, especially as Lucius was moving further in. They could both bring her to climax, and he knew exactly how. The shirt had been his; removing it was his privilege, and he took advantage of it, deftly opening the buttons and teasing her stomach with long fingers.

Idly he tripped at her nipples with his nails, gauging her reaction as well as Lucius' progress. It had to be perfect. Then, gently and slowly, he lifted Venice up, and settled himself inside her from the back.

The effect was almost instant, and her breath came in ragging, irregular gasps which turned to moans. Severus had not orgasmed before in his surprise, but he did now, quite suddenly, and the pleasure was nearly unbearable as she forced her hips back into him.

Afterwards, Severus and Venice slumped in exhaustion, had each other for support. But Lucius looked up in reproach. '_I _haven't been satisfied,' he complained. His voice was childlike, almost an imitation of his son.

But Venice had obviously anticipated him. 'You will be soon, Lucius …' She left Severus, and took Lucius' hand, leading him to the armchair on which Severus had deposited his clothes. Severus realised then that Lucius was still fully clothed: he had not had a chance to remove anything, and it had not been necessary. But now Venice pushed Lucius back into the chair, and settled herself on his chest, kissing down his torso as she unbuttoned his shirt. It was a familiar move, and Severus recognised it.

She jerked Lucius' belt open, and the button of his trousers. With a shock, Severus realised what she was going to do. He knew he should not have been surprised, that Venice was neither fastidious nor shy about sex, but watching her lower her mouth to Lucius' erection threw him for some reason. Perhaps it was because she had never used oral sex as a weapon with Severus. A man's dream. Was he an easier target than Lucius, that she did not need to give him the ultimate pleasure to make him her slave?

But watching them together also gave Severus a curious feeling of satisfaction that he did not understand. As Lucius' breathing came in irregular, sudden gasps, Severus closed his eyes and could hear the uncontrollable jerks of his friend's body. Pleasure given by Venice was always distracting at least, even when she simply looked at you. 

But now she was concentrating on Lucius, Severus was free to watch her unmoved, and it was this freedom that satisfied him, he decided. That was the one weakness she had when trying to play two people at once.

Idly he watched Lucius as he climaxed with a low, lingering moan. Lucius was the same as Severus in this – unwilling to shout out in total submission, but unable to keep back from voicing some delight. Severus wondered whether Venice knew and resented this. It was possible she did not; he did not know exactly how deep a level she wanted to play on. She would definitely not like it if she did know, but the 'kindness' with which she was treating them suggested she was still sufficiently enamoured of them.

Venice drew her tongue over Lucius' thigh one more time, and then turned and looked at Severus. He decided to try to resist her now he thought he understood her strategy a little better, and kept his face carefully mild.

'Are you jealous, Severus?' she asked.

Severus tried to look surprised. 'No … why would I be?'

Lucius' face was disbelieving and Venice looked almost equally scornful. 'Because, my _dear_ Severus, your friend has managed to keep my attention on him for a full five minutes, or more.'

'And,' Lucius added, 'I'm told that I am the first of us two to experience her mouth on … on that particular part of our anatomy. It'd make _me_ jealous.' His voice was soft, probably from fatigue, and his sated condition was evident.

Severus smiled. 'Ah, Lucius. That's the difference between you and me. I tend to accept things more easily.'

Venice turned back to Lucius. 'That's true, actually. He accepted it when I seduced him – he knew he couldn't win.' She smiled in her proud, mocking way.

'From what I understand,' Severus retorted, 'Lucius didn't even _try_ to win.'

Venice looked a little scolding, and then slowly she stood from where she was kneeling on the floor, and began to approach the bed. 'You're so _cross_, Severus,' she said softly. 'Anyone would think you didn't get the first climax.'

He regarded her, desperately trying to stay cold and ignore the fire between his legs. 'It's true, though. Lucius pursued you, not the other way around. You had to try a little harder to win, since I was more aware of my responsibilities …' He glanced a withering glance at Lucius, still in Venice's chair. 'And my loyalties.'

'My wife doesn't love me,' Lucius protested calmly. 'It makes no difference; I know she's been unfaithful to me.'

'I wonder why she'd do that?' Severus said sardonically.

Lucius' face turned a little red, and he began to rise from the armchair. 'What are you suggesting, exactly?'

'Boys, boys!' Venice's voice was a crystal, hard and clear and beautiful. 'Please … this is silly. I love you both equally; stop competing.'

Severus snorted. 'You _love_ us?'

She looked slightly abashed. 'Well … not technically, I suppose. But I do hold a certain … fondness. And it's equal. For the both of you. Now come and kiss me.'

Severus was not sure whom she was talking to, but both he and Lucius rose from their respective resting places and strode to her. It was useless, he realised. Neither of them could really resist her, not when she tried. And he was glad she didn't love him. It would put pressure on him to try to love her back, which he certainly could not. He wanted her, yes, and he was interested her, but he resented her, and he was afraid of her. He was afraid of what she could do to him, of the influence she had had on him. She had compelled him to use a cruel psychological trick on Dumbledore, the person whom he respected more than anyone. All for the sake of simple sex.

After a brief argument with Lucius, they decided it was Severus' turn to be entertained, and he moaned as he felt Venice's lips press hard onto his own, claiming and pushing and straining. When she broke the kiss he was breathless and excited, and leaned in for more, but she put a finger over his lips. 'Lucius' turn,' she whispered.

Greedy Lucius forced a hand to the back of her head and another to her lower back, pressing her to him as his tongue explored hers, but at the end, when Venice turned back to Severus, Lucius looked at his friend and said: 'You don't half taste good, Severus.'

'Doesn't he?' Venice agreed, and let Lucius lift her to wrap her legs around Severus' waist and let him hold her close, pulling Lucius in behind her to kiss her neck and shoulders. 

She was still wearing the open shirt, but Lucius appeared to be growing tired of it, and dragged it from her arms. 'Better … it _is_ a nice shirt, though. I agree with Venice on that score.'

Severus smiled into Venice's lips. Both seemed to be trying to compliment him and make him pliable again, and it seemed that Lucius was on Venice's side. It was amusing but confusing. Were they trying to make him their slave? He was certainly the least confident of the three, sexually. Lucius had had many women; he was experienced in seduction, if only through practice rather than instinct, as with Venice. But Severus had never gone in for sleeping around, not even in the Death Eaters, where sex between Voldemort's servants was considered the par.

Lucius had been the only exception. The two of them had met at school, Lucius a year younger, and had shared a close friendship until they left, when suddenly they were pushed to the Dark Lord's side by their parents and the friendship became overly close. It had been a happy time, despite the horrific acts they were obliged to perform for their Master, and Severus still believed that during those few months he had felt something resembling love for Lucius.

Now, though, sexual experimentation was over, and Severus and Lucius had both agreed to stick to women. Until tonight, they had followed this, but the presence of Venice was bringing out a reckless, aggressive streak in both of them from days of old. They recognised each other as younger, desire-driven beings, and Severus knew it was this that had prompted them to rekindle the passion from years ago.

But Severus had always really been the passive one of the pair, and he still was now. Lucius was whispering in Venice's ear even as her mouth was closed on Severus', and several times she smiled, as if they were plotting something. Severus chose to ignore this, but still he was intrigued. 

Venice's weight was bringing his back into pain, and Severus moved back slowly, drawing the others with him, until he could collapse backwards onto the bed with Venice straddling him and Lucius at his side. 'I'm spent, Venice, you know that. So is Lucius.'

'Oh, I know.' She sighed, obviously a little disappointed. and then yawned a little. 'So am I. Another time, then.' She rolled off Severus and lay beside him, relaxing and smiling comfortably. Then she beckoned Lucius to lie on her other side, and there they slumped against each other in the afterglow of incredible pleasure.

A siren sent from hell, Severus decided. She had won again. She had lured him back, given him passion with her mouth and made him groan. Now she was revelling in her domination of both him and Lucius, and making them sleep beside her, warm with power and fatigue.

For a mere moment, a fleeting instant, Severus hated her, and at that one isolated point he felt the surge of fury in his limbs so strong that he could have attacked her with the full conviction of his reason, and murdered her. He loathed her and stiffened as he felt her bare skin on his.

But then she took a deep breath and shifted, childlike, and Severus was reduced to his former state of bewilderment and sadness at this girl's conversion to the underworld. For all his studying of human nature, for all his tricks and deceits and his reading of people's emotions, he knew that he would never understand Venice.

Then the shocked thought entered his head that here was one person whom he was perfectly content not to understand.

FIN

*****

A/N: This could be the end of the Venice stories. Well, I thought the last one was the end, but … this was more of a recurring fantasy to be honest. The threesome bit wasn't in the fantasy, which sounds weird, since it'd theoretically be the best bit, but I quite like the seduction part of things, the build-up. Anyway, reviews … yeah, they'd be good.

~SS~


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